


Henry's Marauders

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27330487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Cons as part of a crack guerilla unit?  There had been a time when Craig Garrison had thought THAT idea was really pushing the envelope, figured no one could come up with anything any MORE outlandish.  Little did he know!!!





	Henry's Marauders

**Author's Note:**

> It's an odd, disorienting week, what with the Fall time changeover, Halloween, and the upcoming election coming so close together. Perhaps now is the time for this odd, disorienting little story. Though Craig Garrison would just as soon not hear it again, even THINK about it ever again, but maybe some few individuals just might enjoy it. I know Goniff would - well, most of it anyway.

Garrison and his men had been sent to pose as mercenaries to infiltrate an operation where 'Colonel' Jenson Moberly, disaffected ex-military officer and current organizer of a consolidated group of mercenary units, was supposedly developing and training, among others, a new specialized unit called 'Henry's Marauders'. 

That probably wouldn't have shown up on HQ's radar, not enough to warrant intervention, except word was Moberly was SO disaffected, he was willing to offer up his fighters to anyone with the right price - Hitler or Mussolini just as readily as any of the Allied leaders AND that there was something so special, so unique about that new specialized unit that made it more dangerous than most.

They hadn't expected it to be easy, knew there could be complications, especially since the intel about the makeup of that unit was hazy at best. Even Kevin Richards, their Handler, who'd been alerted of the situation by a concerned member of the Colonel's family, admitted the rumors ranged between strange and totally unbelievable. Garrison had listened to some of what was being rumored and no matter the seriousness of the situation, he had to laugh. And he'd thought the formation of his team of wild card cons had been really pushing the envelope!

So they were headed into what might be a rough situation with unreliable intel. Actually, that wasn't all THAT unusual. And they were expecting a few complications. But the guys figured they'd handled complications before, and Garrison was a specialist at that game. 

But not even Garrison could have foreseen some of the complications they would be running into! 

Getting an intro to Jenson Moberly had been the easy part. Not quite as easy as going up and knocking on the front door, but not much more so. 

Convincing him that Garrison and his men (now going by the charming sobriquet of 'Ragnar's Vikings') were genuine and could be helpful in whatever overall plan the Colonel had, hadn't been all that difficult either. The 'Vikings' really did exist, after all, had a very serious rep, though were plying their mercenary trade somewhere far, far away at the moment where they were unlikely to spoil Garrison's play. Yes, Moberly had looked at the team, five men, Garrison and Goniff the only blonds in the bunch, the other three men being dark of hair, the girl being a redhead, all wearing neat and well-fitting town clothes, and snorted, "I must say, you don't look much like 'Vikings' to me!"

Garrison had given a smug smile, having anticipated that reaction. "Exactly, Colonel. Who would ever look at us and, even if they were expecting a hostile visit from Ragnar's Vikings, had been warned to be on the lookout, suspect our true identity?"

Garrison hadn't been thrilled about having Coura along, the idea of a teenage female mascot not being something that went together with the term 'mercenary unit' in his mind. Still, Richards had insisted, though not disclosing his reasons other than the unit they were impersonating DID have such an individual - the daughter of one of the fighters - and it was Richards' show to direct, at least til they got into the field. 

And yet, it had been Coura, urging them to observation rather than reaction, silence and holding their fire rather than yelling or shooting, and quiet, friendly overtures instead of getting, as she put it, "all in a tizzy, for goodness sakes!. It wasn't like we weren't WARNED in that briefing, after all; TOLD what to expect!", that kept it all from going to hell in a handbasket by the end of the second day. 

So, yeah, they'd been warned, been told. That didn't mean they'd believed the Colonel, other than to wonder what odd game the man was really playing.

The slow raising of the window in their assigned room had them going silent, heads snapping in that direction, going on alert. Then, that appearance of two enormous paws, followed by a massive head into the opening hadn't seemed to call for quiet reflection. It probably WOULD have turned nasty without the young O'Donnell woman keeping everyone calm. Screaming on the inside, maybe, but relatively calm on the outside. 

Enough so that Colonel Moberly had been quite favorably impressed.

"Not everyone believes me when I brief them on the situation here, at least about Henry's Marauders. Well, actually NO one believes me, not at first, any more than I am sure you and your group believed me when I first told you about the team. I admit it is rather unusual. 

"Still, to be useful to me and the operation, the teams MUST accept the reality of it, learn to work together. So I have learned to run a little preliminary test, one that addresses not only the ability to adapt one's world view when need be, but also the ability to keep one's head in unexpected situations, the ability to remain calm when you have been instructed to do so. 

"It's a simple enough test, just an intro, really; a physical manifestation of what I had conveyed verbally at the initial briefing. Theoretically, everyone should be prepared for some such thing, if not that specifically. But some, well, they just freak out when one of Henry's unit pokes his head through that window. Sometimes it just gets a little tense, until they realize they are not being attacked. But sometimes, no matter how I've told them no gunplay is allowed within the building or surrounding hundred yards, the men get rattled and start firing away. 

"Henry's guy knows to watch for any such signs, and is prepared to just scoot back down that drain pipe. No harm done there, but any men who can't deal with what I've got going here - well, I've got no use for them. And it's not as if I can just pat them on their heads, send them on their way with a nice severance package. Can't have them chatting things around, can I?"

The Colonel paused, gave an amused chuckle.

"Well, come to think on it, I guess that IS what I do, send them off with a severance package, just one not wrapped up in a pretty envelope, more like a bullet in the back of the head. We've lost a couple of units that way, Ragnar, I have to admit. Damned glad yours wasn't another one. You have a good reputation and your performance seems to bear that out, pardon the pun; I think we can work together quite well."

Well, Garrison had been glad to avoid that 'severance package', thanks to Coura, so were the others, but they had to admit, Henry's guys took some getting used to. Somehow, when you said 'fighting unit', bears just weren't the first thing to pop into your mind.

"What happened??" 

Pulled away from his study of the terrain outside by a casually passing Crenshaw's laughing comment, "Hey, Ragnar. Sounds like your team ran into a little trouble inside!", Garrison wondered just what had gone wrong THIS time!!

Now he stood in the doorway and cast a wary look over his crew. Casino was chuckling, obviously trying to give Goniff a hard time. A groaning Goniff was sitting at the table, had his head dropped into his hands, lifting it only to glare resentfully at the smirking safecracker. 

Garrison noted that, for some reason, it appeared their pickpocket was sitting in a basin of water. Not exactly what Garrison would have expected in this climate, especially when they were trapped in this house surrounded by the enemy and their surprising allies, and Coura might reappear any minute from her exploration of the upper library. It exhibited a certain, well, vulnerability that just didn't seem appropriate or wise, threatened to expose their masquerade as a rough, tough mercenary unit for hire. Along with everything else being exposed, of course, including Goniff's discomfort and the team's amusement. No, Casino wasn't the only one who seemed to be getting a kick out of the pickpocket's delimma, whatever it was, whatever had caused it.

"That ruddy grizzly bear 'it me, that's w'at 'appened!" Goniff muttered sullenly, his mouth pulled down in a pout that would have looked more at home on a six-year-old than on a grown man in his thirties.

Casino snickered once again, "it sure as hell did! Funny as hell, Warden! You shoulda seen it and heard the Limey squeal when those claws landed! THWAPP! Right on the ass! Ow!" It was obvious that his comment had earned him a quick kick to the shins, judging from his yelp and the splash of water escaping from that metal basin.

Garrison looked at Actor, raised his brows. Maybe HE would come up with an answer to Garrison's question, one that actually made some sense. 

"Actually, yes, Craig, that IS what happened. Most unexpected, I know, but essentially true," Actor replied, a surprising smirk on his own aristocratic face, his hands full of the first aid supplies he'd fetched from their packs.

"Run that by me again," Garrison demanded, casting an eye over to the guard, one of the several making up Henry Company, sprawled on the couch over in the corner. (There were no name tags or anything, so the guys had started calling all of them 'Henry' and that seemed to work as well as anything else.). Having ascertained that their current Henry (who was a sloth bear, by the way, not a grizzly!) was deep in peaceful slumber, he listened to Casino's explanation. He'd seen Chief and Actor's nods of agreement, though there was something a little fishy there too. They were far too amused for that report of what seemed a blatant attack to be genuine. 

Besides, in his opinion, it would appear Henry was STILL taking a nap, (all the Henry's seemed to have a strong liking for naps), not intent on taking on any of the guys, much less striking out at them. And anyway, since their first introduction, the bears had seemed congenial enough. Oh, the ones set to guard them hadn't been so friendly as to allow them to leave the room after lights-out, but certainly not displaying any aggression at any time. 

In fact, Garrison had gotten the uneasy impression that Goniff and one particular bear, distinguishable from the others of the same color and type by that drooping left ear and unexpected glint of good-humor in those dark eyes, were developing an unexpected rapport. He still wasn't sure how to deal with that. Somehow, when he'd been giving the occasional mandatory lectures, ones which brought up the strictures against fraternizing with the enemy, this wasn't something he'd bothered to mention - go figure! Sometimes he wondered about his lack of foresight!!

Well, it seems he didn't have to worry about that sleeping Henry getting aggressive, but he still didn't understand how Goniff had gotten injured. That was understandable. He hadn't been in the room when Casino and Chief got in a shoving contest over some dame they both had their eye on - when Casino landed a lucky punch and Chief had been knocked into that huge, snarling stuffed grizzly standing on its hind paws in the corner. It had swayed, then toppled forward right into a distracted Goniff who was trying to dodge his teammates and never expecting an attack from the rear. Those glass eyes might have been fake, but the claws seemed real enough when they raked through his pants and drew blood.

Garrison turned around and left after hearing the story. How he was going to put THAT into the report, he really didn't know.

Surprisingly, the two teams worked pretty well together, though it took some effort not to be nervous by the close proximity of Henry's Marauders, now referred to affectionately by Coura as 'Henry and Company'. Yeah, the idea did take some getting used to, but Garrison's crew adjusted. They all got on fairly well, the members of the two units, in a cautious sort of way. 

Except for Goniff, of course. There was nothing the least bit 'cautious' about his interaction with that one Henry, the one with the droopy left ear, not if Garrison could judge by the very friendly, if exceedingly odd one-sided conversations he overheard. It was a little upsetting. (Of course, it would have been even MORE upsetting if that conversation had been TWO-sided, Garrison admitted.) It was unnerving enough to find the two sitting side by side, either Goniff in a chair and the Henry on the floor beside him, or outside, Goniff sitting on the ground with his arms wrapped around his bent knees, the Henry sitting upright like a huge dog not a foot away. Well, at least GARRISON found it unnerving, hearing Goniff chattering away, apparently just as comfortable as if he was talking to Casino or Chief.

It was bad enough when Garrison overheard their pickpocket sharing some intimate confidences about Actor and Casino's penchant for 'skirts', but even more so when he heard Goniff assuring the Henry that "you'd like them, really you would! Of course, my mum and Aunt Moll, they might take awhile to get comfortable around you, but my 'Gaida, she'd likely sit you right down and pull out 'er 'oney-cake and lemon squares, just to make you feel welcome. Don't expect you like bourbon, though, and 'ave to admit, that's more than likely w'at you'll find in 'er cupboard. W'at DO you like to drink, if you don't mind my asking? Just in case, you know, so I could 'ave 'er get something in stock in case you drop in."

Garrison hurried away when he realized a part of him had been waiting for the Henry to answer that question.

Things had gotten comfortable enough that when the whispers reached Garrison's team, the reaction was immediate and profane.

"What? They're going to shoot the Henry's? Why?" Coura demanded, before groaning in dismay. "Bloody idiots! The Henry's are not just going to stand there and let themselves be mowed down. It's going to be a bloodbath all around! And . . . Oh, Sweet Mother! Goniff!! You KNOW he'll never . . ."

Garrison stared, then together with Actor and Coura, turned and ran. {"No, he'll never, is right. Damn it, Goniff!"}

"Where's Goniff," Garrison demanded, breathing heavy after his mad dash down the hallway. He had an awful feeling he knew the answer, even before Casino swore, the safecracker not even pausing as he tried to wrench that makeshift weapon from its hiding place.

"Where the hell do you think he is, Warden? Off to save Henry and Company, that's where! Gonna get his head blowed off, most likely! Chief headed out after him, so he's gonna be in the soup too!"

As it turned out, it had been a trap, all of it, intended to draw Garrison and his men charging in to the rescue. Straight to where Moberly waited with his cold-eyed mercenaries.

There was no way out except to fight, and it was obvious to all of them that there was no win possible, only a bloody death awaiting them all. Still they fought, Garrison, his men, the young O'Donnell girl who'd come in as their 'mascot', and as long as it was only Moberly and his men, they managed to hold their own. Til their pistols were empty, ammunition depleted, the only weapon left to them the broken blade clasped in Chief's bloody hand.

Until Moberly held that damned bugle to his lips and blew one long note, had stepped back and laughed loud and hard. 

"Alright, Garrison! Yes, I discovered out who you are, you AND your team! You're known for being a fast talker, a real con man. You conned your way in here well enough. Now you can take on the B Team! Or, I guess you could call them the 'H' Team. Let's see how well you do against THEM!"

Garrison had slowly turned, knowing in his heart just what they would be facing, that 'H Team'; otherwise known as Henry's Marauders. A full platoon of fully-grown bears, black bears, brown bears, a couple of grizzlies, even a sloth bear or two, all slowly moving towards them on all fours. Then, one moved forward to take the lead, one with a drooping left ear. The bear reared onto thick hind legs and let out a challenging roar that threatened to split the sky. 

"'enry!" Goniff whispered. There was fear in his hazy blue eyes, yes, and despair, but perhaps as much as those, there was sheer awe at the towering figure leading the charge. 

The charge came, the fiercely roaring bears reaching Garrison and his team in less than a thought. Reached them, then spread out to surround, then bypass them, falling on Moberly and the others of his crew, rending them to pieces, blood and flesh and stray limbs flying through the air like autumn leaves.

When it was over, the bears calmly settled down to clean their fur of the mess, leaving it to one bear, one with a drooping left ear, to amble over to Garrison and the others. They all admitted later, none of them had ever heard a sound like that coming from any of the bears before. It almost sounded a little like words, maybe tinged with laughter, though in an unknown language. But Goniff quickly said, "don't worry - just telling us it's okay, that's all, guys. 'Enry don't want us to be afraid of them. Just like I told you before, we're friends, we are!"

Looking at the remnants of Moberly and his men, at the scattered fighters licking the last of the blood from their fur, at Henry now rubbing up against Goniff like an oversized tabby cat looking to get stroked, Garrison wasn't about to dispute that. He didn't understand it, actually didn't even want to think about it, but he wasn't going to argue with the results.

A campfire had been laid, plans made to head back to civilization the following morning. In the meantime, Goniff was stretched out flat on his back on the ground, huge furry head centered on his chest and stomach. The serene smile, that look of sheer contentment on Goniff's face was seemingly matched by that of his companion, if Garrison could judge from his admittedly thin knowledge available about bear expressions. One thing was obvious from the rumbling sound, as close to a contented purr as you could get from a several-hundred pound bear, that hand alternating stroking and scratching Henry behind the ears was as talented at that as it was at picking a pocket. 

Garrison watched, unable to even imagine what the next few hours would bring. His options were - well, he had no IDEA what his options were! First, no way would HQ ever believe this! Second, even if they did, THEIR answer would be to send in a squad with machine guns to wipe out the small enclave of bears. And even if they did back off, do nothing, was it really fair to the neighboring towns to just leave the bears there? No matter how well-disposed or well-intended, it wasn't their native habitat, there just wasn't enough for them to eat there, and that was going to cause trouble down the road!

It was Coura who came up with the solution. "It's not the most hospitable place, not to my mind, but then, I don't have a built-in fur coat. And I know there are various different kinds in the unit, probably not all having the exact same requirements. But the place I have in mind is in the middle of nowhere, no settlements anywhere remotely near, and the Clan has full rights to the whole territory. We only use it to drop off a few irritations who need to be taught a good lesson, and we have other options for that, if need be. AND there are caribou herds, and musk ox, reindeer and northern hares, and fish, if they're willing to fish through the ice for them. We've seen a very few polar bears up there, too, though not many. I would think Henry and this crew would find it a viable solution. The Family could help rig shelters, whatever else they might need, set up supply runs too.

"Perhaps Goniff and I can explain, see if they're willing. Well, we have to do something! I'm beginning to wonder if Henry hasn't developed a bit of a crush. Oh, not on YOU, Craig, of course, or the other guys, but definitely on Goniff! You DO realize Henry is really a Henrietta, right? I mean, it's flattering and all, when you think about it, I suppose, but somehow I don't think Meghada is going to appreciate the competition!"

Garrison simply stared, {"Henry is a Henrietta. AND has a crush on Goniff? But "Oh, not on YOU, Craig, OF COURSE??"}, realizing he felt slightly insulted. {"I've been dissed by a bear?! Or maybe just by Coura,"} came the incredulous thought before he regained his equilibrium and answered her. 

"That sounds like a plan, Coura. And no, I don't think Meghada would be, happy that is. Actually, I'm not all that thrilled myself!" And he wasn't, though he wasn't sure he should, or even could, articulate what he wasn't thrilled about. There were, in fact, any number of things that qualified there, along with the necessity of formulating a report for this mad adventure that didn't get him locked away in a padded cell somewhere.

Coura grinned at him, that look more like one of Goniff's more cheeky, downright impertinent ones than he felt totally comfortable with. Not that he was comfortable with much of anything anymore, and wasn't sure he ever would be again.

"Now, now, Craig. Don't be jealous. It's not that Henry doesn't think you're cute too, it's just that you're not quite her type. Perhaps more than the others, yes, but your hair is still a bit dark for her tastes. She prefers a lighter shade of blonde. Perhaps one of the polars will catch her eye, keep her from pining. We can but hope."

Garrison turned away from the outburst of joined laughter, promptly tripped over one of Henry, uh Henrietta's outstretched legs, and crashed down, hitting his head on the wood they had piled by the campfire. That was the last thing he remembered, until . . .

Craig lay on his bed, in his own dimly-lit bedroom at the Mansion and tried to make some sense of where he was, how he could have gotten there. The last thing he remembered clearly was the team's conning their way into that house, out in the middle of nowhere. There had been a mission, something about an odd team, or maybe more than one team, being formed, something really off-beat. He tried to bring it all into focus, none of what he remembered, or thought he remembered making much sense.

"We're not gonna give 'im any more of that stuff, are we?" Goniff's worried voice sounded from the distance. "I don't think it's agreeing with 'im at all, you know? You 'eard all 'e was saying! Tipped 'im off the deep end, on top of the other, no matter 'ow much the doc says it'll do 'im good!"

"That was his last dose, Goniff, so unless Dr. Riley changes his mind, all that is left now is letting Craig recover from his exposure to those fumes in Moberly's lab. And you know he SAID there might be some hallucinations involved before Craig regained full consciousness, was fully himself again."

"Yeah, Beautiful, but give me a freakin' break! All that stuff he was going on about?? Like outta a comic book or something! Though I gotta admit the bit about Sticky Fingers here sitting in that pan of water after getting his ass clawed by the stuffed grizzly, that was funny as hell!"

"Woulda been funnier if it had been you, Pappy," another voice, Chief, interjected. "Gotta admit the Warden's got one heck of an imagination! And I think you're just pissed because that Henrietta was stuck on Goniff and not you or the rest of us. A hot dame in a fur coat looking at the bunch of us and shrugging, then zeroing in on Goniff, that's just gotta stick in your craw. Surprised Actor isn't pouting too."

The resulting argument swept away some of the cobwebs that still lingered in Craig Garrison's mind. 

Now he remembered. A house in the middle of nowhere, an ex-military officer with a mad scheme for turning ordinary soldiers into something far from ordinary, all via the miracle of science. Working in a laboratory of his own design, probably breathing in the fumes of his own experiments, possibly, from the look of his arms, injecting some highly-dubious substances into himself as a trial.

Once they'd gotten inside, once Actor and Craig got Colonel Jenson Moberly, the highly-decorated veteran from the Franco-Prussian War, to discussing his plans, showing them his workspace, his notes, it was obvious the frail but enthusiastic old man lived in a world of his own making. And what a world it was! There he was a scientific genius, able to take dedicated soldiers, strong fighting men, and combine them with the most desirable attributes of fierce wild creatures - specifically bears, though having plans for incorporating other creatures in time - all in the aim of creating the perfect invincible warrior!

It hadn't taken much, just an earnest approach, along with a convincing story about influential people who needed to hear and understand that 'genius of an idea', a kind and careful handing off of the old gentleman to the grandson who had been searching frantically for his beleaguered and confused grandfather for several weeks after the old man had wandered away from the family estates. It had been that grandson who had called on an old friend, Kevin Richards, for some unofficial assistance - Richards who'd pulled in a favor from Garrison and his team.

It all would have ended without incident, except for that unnoticed bunsen burner back in a blind corner. With no one to attend to it, it had continued on its merry way, eventually causing that vial of liquid to bubble and fume, all while Garrison was trying to gather the old man's journals. The fumes had no odor and had spread too far by the time Garrison had noticed, and he'd made it only halfway to the door before he had been overcome. 

He remembered thinking as he collapsed to the floor, {"it's a pity he couldn't make it work, in a way. Oh, not for real, of course. That would have been a real nightmare! But he should have written it down, and not just in his notes; it would have made for a real page turner of a book! Maybe I might see if the family minds if I have a try at it some day. A platoon of fighting men, now bears, maybe led by a bear named - named - maybe named Henry?"}

"Guys," he called from his bedroom, flushing to realize how weak, how croaking his voice sounded.

"Hey, he's back!" came the cheer and the rush of footsteps in the hall brought all four men to gather around the bed, each offering reassurances or questions or whatever best suited their individual personality.

Garrison heaved a sigh of relief. He was back, the guys were there, safe and sound. He was headed for a decent night's sleep, and tomorrow they'd get things back to normal!

Other than a rueful thought or two over the next few days, it was behind him, the whole freaky experience, other than that note in his journal, a reminder that the story of 'Henry Company' just might be something he'd tackle sometime in the future.

Until Meghada arrived with a basket of scones, a fat ham from Haven and a round of cheese from the same source. 

"Coo, it's good to see you back!" Goniff exclaimed, heading in for a long satisfying kiss before delving into that basket.

"Yeah, took you long enough. You and the kid get everyone settled?" Casino asked, grabbing a plate and the long knife, ready to slice into that ham.

"Yes, everything went quite nicely. Coura stayed on to set up the supply deliveries, go over the maps, make a few introductions, but I saw no reason to stay. You know me and cold weather, and MY fur coat wasn't nearly enough to keep me comfortable!"

At an inquiring look from Garrison, Actor explained. "Coura and Meghada were assisting some friends in, well, 'resettling' might be the best term. Their current situation was unfortunate, and the O'Donnells had a property Coura thought might suit them quite well."

Meghada laughed. "Actually, we tend to call it 'The Icicle Built For Two', a small cabin in the middle of a rather desolate area of Greenland. Certainly not MY cup of tea, but Henrietta agreed with Coura, thought she and her companions would do quite well there, in the area itself, if not in the cabin."

Garrison stared at her. "Henrietta?" He got a smiling nod in return.

"Henrietta," he repeated, a total lack of inflection in his voice.

He turned his head to look at Actor, and then the others, all of them nodding away merrily. All had bright, cheerful, totally innocent looks on their faces.

"If you will excuse me, I think I just might go lay down for awhile. I don't quite know why, but all of a sudden, I don't feel so well," he offered, standing up and slowly making his way back to his bedroom.

{"I'm not going to ask. I'm not going to bring it up, ever again. I'm not ever going to think about it, ever again. Maybe a nice long nap - yes, that should do the trick, a nice long nap."}


End file.
